Only On My Own
by SunWillRise2340
Summary: I was named for a book character, from my mother's favourite book. A girl called Eponine, who died for the man she loved. As much as I admired her, her courage and bravery, I never thought I would end up like her, dying of love for someone who would never love me back. Songfic and Oneshot.


**Hey, this is a one shot I just had an idea for...I hope you like it.**

**Full Summary: **I was named for a book character, from my mother's favourite book. A girl called Eponine, who died for the man she loved. As much as I admired her, her courage and bravery, I never thought I would end up like her, dying of love for someone who would never love me back. GalexOC T to be safe. Songfic.

**Song: On My Own, from Les Miserables without the bit at the beginning.**

**Okay, just a couple of quick notes. ****_This girl is not Eponine from Les Miserables. _****She is based on her - has the same name and all that jazz, and kind of the same storyline, but she is a completely different character altogether. Also, DISCLAIMER: I am not cool enough to be Suzanne Collins. I think that's enough said.**

**This is also my first song-fic. I do NOT own the song, all credit to Herbert Kretzmer, Claude-Michel Schonberg and Alain Boubil.**

* * *

I was named for a book character, from my mother's favourite book. A girl called Eponine, who died for the man she loved. As much as I admired her, her courage and bravery, I never thought I would end up like her, dying of love for someone who would never love me back.

It started with a smile, as he and his best friend walked past me, carrying bags full to the brim with game. It was the first time anyone had ever smiled at me since my parents died and left me a penniless orphan. It was the first time anyone had even noticed me…and I guess, that's why I ended up falling head over heels in love with him.

But he never loved me back.

* * *

_On my own, pretending he's beside me_

_All alone, I walk with him till morning_

_Without him, I feel his arms around me_

_And when I lose my way I close my eyes and he has found me!_

The sounds of the battle permeate the night air, the screams of the dying, and the cold sound of gunfire. I huddle closer into my stolen uniform, pressing myself into the brick wall of the house on the edge of the town square. I'm feeling sick to my stomach with fear, fear of death, fear of more pain, but I'm not going to give up now. He might need my help.

I slowly edge my way to the corner, where this street merges with the wide expanse of cobbled pavement, my hair tucked up into a helmet, and my head down. I didn't bring a gun – if I die, I die. It makes no difference to me.

The plaza is lit by the red light of fire, flickering from the long, low train station, smoke pouring out of the doors. People are locked in tussles – the white uniforms of Peacekeepers contrasting greatly with the rags of the rebels and the neat dark grey uniforms of the soldiers from District Thirteen. It reminds me of a picture of hell that we were shown in school, back in District Twelve, the complete opposite of the beautiful, tranquil nights I spent wandering around the dirt streets in the rain, playing make believe.

I steel myself, take a deep breath, straighten my shoulders, and start to run.

_In the rain, the pavement shines like silver…_

_All the lights are misty in the river…_

_In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight…_

_And all I see is him and me for ever and forever…_

I don't know when I first fell for him. It might have been the day he smiled at me. Or a few days after that, when his mother invited me into her house for dinner. Or the nights after that, where I found myself sitting in front of a roaring fire, having eaten my fill, feeling comfortable and happy and safe all at the same time, three emotions I'd never really experienced before. I only knew that when I looked into his beautiful grey eyes, I was filled with joy and love, and all I wanted to do was spend the rest of my days sitting in front of the fire with him, talking and laughing, convincing him that all he needed was me.

But then she was reaped, his best friend, Katniss Everdeen. Taken to the Hunger Games, had to fall in love with another boy to stay alive. The invitations stopped coming – I spent all my time on the street corners instead of sitting in front of the Hawthornes' fire. He retreated into himself, spending hours in the woods, never smiling anymore. And that's when I knew what pure, heart-choking jealousy felt like.

_And I know, it's only in my mind_

_That I'm talking to myself and not to him_

_And although, I know that he is blind_

_Still I say there's a way for us…_

She came back from the Hunger Games, with her new boyfriend. And I had to watch the pain in Gale's eyes as they kissed for the cameras – I hated her at that moment. She had all she needed, the love of a boy who would never leave her, and she still held sway over my beloved's heart. I never understood why she would never let him go.

She decided she couldn't choose. She decided she loved them both. And that led to Gale being whipped to within an inch of his life – I still remember that, cowering in one of the backstreets, my tatty brown skirt whipping around my ankles, my fist stuffed in my mouth to stifle the shrieks as every lash made contact with his skin. And she was the one who saved him, and took him to her house – I watched through the window as she kissed him, feeling my already broken heart break a little more as the snow fell around me.

_I love him, but when the night is over_

_He is gone; the river's just a river_

_Without him, the world around me changes_

_The trees are bare and everywhere_

_The streets are full of strangers…_

I watched as the Quarter Quell was announced, how he ran to her house with me shadowing him. She showed up drunk – how I wanted to slap her for that – and he held her and comforted her. She didn't deserve it, she didn't deserve his love. Not after she flayed his heart to pieces so many times.

Then she went back to the Capitol, and he returned to the melancholy state that he fell into during the first Hunger Games. But this time, he noticed me, sitting and shivering on a street corner. And invited me inside, for the first time in two years. Hazelle, his mother, fed me and gave me some of her old clothes as mine were tattered and smelly, just like the old times. And, like before, I sat in front of the fire with him, our shoulders brushing as we talked about the Games, about Katniss...even though it hurt to even think about _her, _I was just happy that he'd noticed me again, seen me again. That was all I ever wanted.

Then, on that fateful night, the bombs started falling. I helped him get as many people out as possible – got burned in the process, right across my face. I didn't mind, as it meant he stayed with me, helped me wobble my way through the forest, his arm around my shoulder, keeping me steady. I savour that moment, even now, the warm pressure of his arm, the heat of his body at my side. The flush in his cheeks as he bent over me to make sure I was alright.

But when we got to Thirteen, he forgot me again. Became sucked up in our precious Mockingjay's world, still loving her whilst she broke his heart yearning for her lover, caught by the Capitol's net and twisted beyond belief. I was relegated to the edges of his concern, no more than a waiflike shadow, hiding behind a locked door in his mind. And that's how it stayed, up until now.

_I love him, but everyday I'm learning_

_All my life, I've only been pretending_

_Without me, his world will go on turning_

_A world that's full of happiness that I have never known…_

Time becomes fragmented. I dart through the fray, ducking bullets, crawling on the floor, dodging bodies. I must get to him. _I must._

I see him…

A gun…

Aimed at his heart…

NO!

My hand clamped over the barrel, pulling it towards my stomach.

A bang.

Unendurable pain, blood seeping from my hand…stains the uniform….like poppies in a meadow…

Poppies blossoming across my abdomen….

Gunshots….

Screams….

Silence…

"Gale!" I croak, my voice hoarse from the effort. He looks around him, his dark hair messed up by the helmet. Confused. "At your feet," I whisper, looking up at him through blurring vision.

"Eponine, you idiot!" he drops to his knees beside me, taking my hand, not noticing the injury until I cry out sharply from the stab of sickening pain. "Your hand…what have you done?"

"Gun…pointing at you…" I lick my lips in an attempt to moisten them. "Hand over the barrel…it was mine."

"You…you did that for me?" he sounds so shocked and thankful. He's thankful for _me. _"But it's only your hand – we can get you to a medic. Can you walk?" his grey eyes stare at me searchingly as a small, dreamy smile spreads across my face.

"No…the bullet went in through my hand, came out through my back." I cough, causing more pain to sear down my body. "I'm not going to survive this."

His eyes are horrified, terrified. "But…you have to live Eponine. You can't leave me. _Please _don't leave me."

"I don't...have a choice," my words are come slower now as another wave of pain throbs through my stomach. "Stay with me."

"I will," he says, putting his arms around me and picking me up, holding me to him. I hold in my scream, taking deep, raggedy breaths. "Are you in pain?" he asks me anxiously as I rest my head on his warm, broad shoulder.

"It's better now you're here," I whisper, feeling the agony subside. "Your shoulder makes a good pillow."

"Glad to hear it," he's trying to make his voice light, but I can sense the brittle tone behind it. He can feel the blood draining out of me, just as I can, feel my life seeping away with every passing second. My breaths start to come shorter and faster as the pain returns with a vengeance.

"It won't be long now," I whisper, feeling very weak all of a sudden.

He presses his lips to my hair and keeps them there, holding me close in the warm circle of his embrace. My eyes flutter shut; I can feel the coarse fabric of his uniform below my cheek, but the feeling is slipping away.

"You know…" I manage to get out. "I think I was in love with you."

I don't hear his murmured reply – blackness is teasing my vision and my ears are ringing, but the one thing I do feel is the gentle pressure of his lips on mine, the last, most precious earthly thing…mine, before I die.

_I love him…_

_I love him…_

_I love him…_

_But only on my own…_


End file.
